“Oh--I thought you might want company. Heard you was here.” “Want anything special?” “We-ell--I did think of congratulating you.” Wint smiled coldly. “Thanks. That all?” Gergue rummaged through his hair. “Thought you might have things to inquire about.” Wint started to say “No” to this, then changed his mind and looked steadily. “You--you mix in politics, don’t you, Pete?” Gergue looked startled. “Why--some,” he admitted. “Why, yes, I might say--some.” “Friend of Congressman Caretall’s, aren’t you?” Gergue spat, and nodded slowly. “I like to help him out--when I c’n manage,” he agreed. Wint smiled again. “Then you know how this thing happened.” “Some,” said Peter. “Explain it to me,” Wint invited. “How was it worked? And--why?” Gergue grinned slyly. Then he laughed, a shrill burst of merriment of a sort unusual in this man. When this mirth passed, he touched Wint’s lapel. “Cleanest piece of work I ever see,” he declared. “How was it done?” “Word o’ mouth! Word o’ mouth! Cong’essman knew folks was expecting something f’om him. He kept ’em expecting. Told everybody he was going to vote for a man named Chase. Got ’em worked up, sittin’ on needles and pins and cockle burrs to know where the trick come in. Everybody knowed they was some trick. Then--last minute--he passed the word to V. R. Kite, and him and Kite passed the word around. Everybody figured it would be a joke on your paw. Whole town took it laughing, and went and done what Cong’essman told ’em t’ do. Writ in your name....” Wint smiled frostily. “Great joke, wasn’t it?” Gergue chuckled. “Fine. Take V. R. Kite. Tickled him half t’ death. Like t’ killed Kite.” “Caretall and my father are against each other, of course.” “Sure. Your paw comes to the Cong’essman, high and mighty, offering him this ’nd that. That wa’n’t no way to go at the Cong’essman. Amos ain’t used to it.” Wint nodded. “But why me?” he asked. “Why pick on me?” Gergue waved his hand. “That made it more like a joke on your paw. Everybuddy knowed what your paw thinks of you. Figured it’d pupplex him. It did, too, Wint. It certainly did pupplex your paw.” “It would,” Wint agreed. “But--I should think Caretall would as soon see my father elected as me.” “Yo’r paw had a little too much wind in his sails. Needed a little coolin’ off. Amos gave it to him.” “But how about Kite?” Wint asked. “Why was he so ready to fall in with it?” Gergue looked at Wint sidewise. “Why, he don’t like yo’r paw so very much,” he explained, with an appearance of frankness, “and besides that, Kite’s wet, and your paw’s dry. That stands t’ reason.” “He figured I would be wet, of course.” Gergue nodded emphatically. “Natural,” he said. “Natural, he figured that way.” “Did Caretall have that idea, too?”